Page 9 of Plane Passion

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He winked at her, grinning like an idiot as she walked away. Then he shook himself. Was he losing his mind? He couldn’t get caught mooning over Millie Aldrich. His job, his career—he could kiss them goodbye if he so much as looked at her wrong. He shouldn’t have been looking at Millie Aldrich as anything but a problem to be solved.

He was about to head to his own hotel room when a familiar, lanky figure came sauntering in, dark hair plastered to his head from hours in a flight cap. “O’Donnell, is that you?”

“In the flesh.” O’Donnell paused beside him, staring after Millie’s disappearing form. “Say, was that Miss Aldrich?”

“Yes, but I have a much more important question for you. Would you like to grab a temperance beverage with me?” The last thing Ernie wanted to do was discuss Millie Aldrich with the biggest gossip he knew, and he desperately needed a chance to unwind after the day he had.

O’Donnell grinned. “I would not mind a fine temperance beverage one bit.”

“Excellent. Meet me back here in the lobby in fifteen minutes. I just need to clean up and change.”

Refocusing on the evening ahead, he headed for the reception desk to check in. “Hiya, Mort. Any room will do.”

The balding, middle-aged proprietor opened a cabinet of keys on the wall and took one down. Ernie tapped his foot to the ragtime on the polished wood radio behind the desk with the speaker shaped like a peacock’s tail.

That reminded him he had a dinner date with Vera. She was much more his speed than Millie. He couldn’t resist a naughty teacher, and it was such a lovely coincidence that she’d come down from New York to visit her aunt in Philly.

Mort handed him the key, and Ernie headed up the stairs to room 204, making himself at home in the narrow room with an even narrower bed. Opening his bag, he pulled out clean clothes that didn’t smell like an engine fire and added a tie and blazer. After all, he had to look his best for his date.

He’d meet her at the restaurant, and Vera would be dressed in one of those flapper numbers, knees peeking out beneath the scandalously high hem. Boy, was he looking forward to that!

He shrugged out of his sweaty clothes and changed into his fresh ones, then got out the pomade to comb his hair into some semblance of respectability. When he got back to New York, he was going to have to visit the barber. His hair was getting out of hand. He knew the ladies loved it, but it was a safety hazard once it was long enough to get in his eyes.

One last look in the mirror, and he was ready to go. Locking the door behind him, he headed downstairs to meet O’Donnell.

“Do you have a date tonight, you handsome devil? You’re looking exceptionally well groomed. I assume this isn’t for little old me.”

Laughing, Ernie nodded. “With Vera Clarke.”

“Have I met Vera?”

“I’m not sure. Short and cute. Black hair in a bob. She’s a schoolteacher. Lives in Brooklyn Heights, but she’s visiting her aunt here in Philly this week.”

O’Donnell shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Who was the one I met in New York two months ago? Redhead with the…” He gestured in front of his chest.

Ernie shook his head. “I thought you weren’t supposed to notice those things as a married man.”

“Purely a scientific observation, I assure you. You know I have eyes for no one but Ann.”

“I do.” It was true. The man was smitten. “And for your information, that was Lillian. She and I parted ways after she started hinting at a ring.”

“Not ready to settle down?”

“Vera and I have an understanding. She knows I’m not the marrying type.”

Vera was thoroughly modern in all the best ways. All she wanted was a little fun on the side while she pursued her career. No strings. No commitments. Teachers had to quit their jobs when they married, so she wanted nothing to do with matrimony, which suited him fine. He had too many responsibilities to consider settling down.

“Still playing the field, eh, you hound dog?” O’Donnell elbowed him in the side.

Ernie shrugged to avoid answering.

Sure, he wanted to marry eventually, but he couldn’t afford it until his sisters were off his hands. Once they either married or got careers of their own, he could consider it. But even the generous salary he received from the Postal Service wouldn’t let him support two households. He had Constance’s secretarial school tuition to pay, and Verity and Prudence were still in high school. He’d had no idea how much high school girls cost until he found himself supporting them. And, of course, there was Mom and Pop.

Most of all, he didn’t want them to want for anything. Ever since Pop’s hand got mangled in that factory accident, Ernie had been the family breadwinner. The whole family had been relying on him since he was seventeen, and by some miracle, he’d managed to keep them all afloat. The airmail was the best job he’d had yet. Sure, it was dangerous, but it paid well. And he was lucky. He’d survived the war, hadn’t he?

He touched the pocket watch he got from his grandpa—his lucky charm. He took it with him everywhere he went, and so far, it hadn’t let him down.

“Shall we head out? Our sodas await.” O’Donnell gestured toward the door, and together, they ambled down the block to the soda shop. But instead of entering, they circled around to a side door in the alley and knocked a special knock. The door opened, and they descended into a bar.